Deimon High Recruitment Drive
by Sinnatious
Summary: Prince of Tennis and Eyeshield21 crossover. Seigaku's tennis team are invited to Deimon High, but apparently it wasn't for a tennis match. Midly implied Pillar Pair and Silver Pair.


Disclaimer: Neither Prince of Tennis nor Eyeshield belong to me, and I am not profiting from them.

Warnings: Implied shonen-ai and swearing. Actually, the rating is ENTIRELY for Hiruma's foul mouth.

Author's Note: Eyeshield and Tenipuri are so so much fun to crossover. Silver Pair and Pillar Pair implied. :D Hope you enjoy!

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**Deimon High Recruitment Drive**

By Sinnatious

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The first inkling Tezuka had that the friendly tennis meet was not on the level was when it was revealed that the team they were going to be playing was actually a _high school _team. That concern was briefly mollified when Inui reported that the team in question was so dismal as to not have even made it to the Regionals.

The concern returned tenfold when they arrived at the school only to find that it didn't have any tennis courts.

"I'm sorry, there must be some confusion – Deimon hasn't had a tennis club for the past two years," the strawberry-haired girl explained.

"You're quite sure?" Tezuka asked.

She nodded firmly. "I'm the head of the disciplinary committee – I know the schedules of all the clubs. Are you sure it was Deimon High?"

Wordlessly, Tezuka handed over the invitation Coach Ryuuzaki had given him. The rest of the team were hanging around in the background, wondering loudly what the hold up was. The girl took the piece of paper and quickly scanned it, eyes widening. "This looks like…"

The door to the nearest building – was that a casino? – slammed open, and a wiry blonde with earrings in his right ear and spiky hair strode out. He looked every part the teenage delinquent. Tezuka's brow furrowed in disapproval. "Fucking manager! You found the tennis team!"

"Hiruma! _You_ did this?!"

"Did what?" The blonde's words were innocent, but the wide grin he wore on his face was anything but.

"This is the third team you've brought in this week!"

"Have to make sure all this doesn't go to waste!" He jerked his thumb at the building behind him, then ambled over. "You're the captain, Tezuka Kunimitsu," he stated confidently.

Tezuka was polite enough to restrain his reaction. "And you are?"

He extended a bony hand with a wicked grin. "Hiruma Yoichi. Captain of the Deimon Devilbats American Football Team."

Confused, Tezuka shook the proffered hand, while his team in the background exclaimed their confusion. "What, football?" Momoshiro was the loudest.

"Nyaaa, what's going on Oishi?!"

"Calm down everyone, I'm sure Tezuka will figure it all out…" Oishi proved his worth as vice-captain by - sort of - taking control of the situation.

The only problem was, Tezuka wasn't quite sure where to start. Football and tennis weren't even remotely similar. For starters, outside of doubles tennis wasn't exactly a team sport. Neither was tennis a contact sport, unless you happened to be playing Kirihara Akaya or Shinjou Reiji. What on earth did a high school football team want with them?

"Your reason for calling us here? I was under the impression that we were supposed to having a friendly tennis match."

"No such thing as a friendly match in any sport." Tezuka was reluctant to use the word, but Hiruma's expression was truly _evil_. There was no other more reasonable adjective he could find to fit it. "I understand your team here won the Nationals! Congratulations!"

"Thank you," Tezuka said slowly, sensing more to come. "If we're not here for a match, then-"

Hiruma ignored him. "Oh, I see you've also brought your fucking shorty," he observed with an exaggerated wide-eyed smile on his face, leaning around Tezuka to spy the freshman standing behind him. "Echizen Ryoma. Your team's star rookie from America. We've also got a pretty amazing fucking shorty on our team. But we lied about the America part." He cackled at that. Tezuka frowned.

"Buchou?" Echizen stepped up next to him. "Not playing tennis?" he guessed.

"He's a sharp one, too. Oi! Get out here you fucking slackers and get practice started already!"

There were sounds of hurried movement from what Tezuka decided must have been their clubhouse and not a casino after all – because surely a casino couldn't be on school grounds, could it? A moment later, a short brown-haired boy stumbled out onto the field, then stopped and pointed at them. "Aaaah, Hiruma-san, you did it again?!"

"Embarrassing MAX," his companion muttered from behind him. "It isn't ever going to work."

"You say something, fucking monkey?!"

"NO SIR, NOTHING! NOTHING AT ALL!"

Seeing that he wasn't going to get anything out of the captain, Tezuka addressed the shorter boy who'd just joined them. "This is a common incident?"

"Yes, I'm so sorry!" He nervously bowed. "Hiruma-san is just trying to scout out recruits for the team next year when the juniors leave! It was the National Kendo Champions yesterday, and the Soccer Champions on Monday. Sorry for the trouble! Really, we're very sorry!"

"Stop apologizing fucking shorty, and go get the rest of the team!" Hiruma yelled, kicking the high school freshman – Tezuka had a hard time believing that he was older than them – back towards the clubhouse. He turned back to them with that frighteningly fake grin again and flipped open a black notebook, not unlike the sort Inui scribbled in all the time. "Let's see what we've got… Kikumaru Eiji, he's pretty fast, good sideways movement, might make a good running back or tight end. Oh ho, Inui Sadaharu, already nearly two metres tall, a brain for statistics, quarterback potential. Kawamura Takashi, could probably bench-press with the best, good for a lineman!"

"Ah, but I'm focusing on sushi-making after this year," Kawamura protested with an awkward smile.

"You shouldn't rule things out! Here's some pamphlets." He dumped a pile of posters and leaflets in Kawamura's arms, abruptly flipping to the next page. "No good, no good… oh, this Kaidoh Kaoru guy has a mean look and some excellent stamina. Scare the pants off the opponents."

Kaidoh hissed, visibly displeased at being discussed. Hiruma pointed at him. "Yes! Exactly like that!"

Momoshiro laughed. Hiruma flicked him a bored glance next, chewing on a piece of gum. "No real potential there, though." He blew a pale green bubble.

"What?! The Viper has potential but I don't?"

"We're all tennis players," Tezuka said patiently before the two juniors could start fighting. "Not particularly suited for football."

Hiruma snapped the bubble and grinned. "Heh. Tell that to Poisedon. One of their ace players is a swimmer!" He pointed at Echizen next. "This fucking little shorty isn't much now, but he's got real potential. Half-American, right? Good chance he'll get fucking tall. Good kinetic vision, on-court movement, can get into the zone at will. This is _gold_!"

Tezuka shifted slightly in front of their star freshman. He didn't really want to judge a book by its cover, but he also didn't want Hiruma coming within five feet of any member of his team, and _especially_ not Echizen.

"He's completely crazy, Buchou. Who'd want to play football instead of tennis?" Echizen muttered under his breath.

Tezuka agreed, but didn't think it polite to say so out loud. "Don't knock it until you've tried it!" Hiruma interrupted.

"Hiruma! Stop trying to bully them into it! They might not even come to Deimon!" the girl from disciplinary committee ordered – Tezuka had briefly forgotten she was even there in light of the quarterback's domineering presence.

"What's your problem, fucking manager? I just thought that they might want to learn a little about the sport before making up their minds!"

Fuji chuckled in the background. "This is all very interesting, isn't it?"

Tezuka ignored him. Fuji deciding to take part in Hiruma's conspiracy would be a worst-case scenario. "Inui?" he asked in a low voice.

"Hiruma Yoichi. I'd heard of him before, of course, but the rumours were so unbelievable… I have very little confirmed information. Captain of the Deimon Devilbats, in his second year of high school, widely feared by the student population and an ace quarterback. Best time recorded for the 40 yard dash is 5.1 seconds, appears to have connections in high places as he once rented out the Tokyo Tower for an entire day."

Hiruma's pointy ears apparently were quite sensitive. "Think you're in the know, do you? Inui Sadaharu, worst subject Home Economics, attended Midorigawa Dai-ichi Elementary, now in his senior year at Seishun Gakuen, birthday June 3rd." He paused, eyes gleaming as he flipped to the next page. "Oh ho? Your juices sound interesting. They'd make a nice penalty game."

"Excuse me, but-"

"No, Inui," Tezuka interrupted.

"But I was just wondering-"

"No," Tezuka repeated firmly.

Inui apparently couldn't quite handle the fact that there was someone who was even more proficient at collecting data than he. On the other hand, Tezuka noted shrewdly, it appeared that Hiruma was the sort who probably had a vast network of slaves doing his work for him. Inui was a single person – he couldn't hope to compete.

Tezuka just hoped that Inui didn't observe Hiruma's methods and start getting ideas of his own.

Apparently the quarterback couldn't resist poking the fire a little more. "Let's see… doesn't like lightning, oh, and what's this? Visited the art gallery two weeks ago with one Kaidoh Kaoru, and then later-"

Inui made a strangled sound in his throat. Hiruma had suddenly produced a handful of photos from nowhere.

Tezuka frowned. "Inui, what-"

"I can't promise anything, but I'll certainly be reading up on American Football. A fascinating sport, really," Inui babbled.

Hiruma flipped the data-gatherer a small envelope. "That's more like it! Here, you can have a copy."

Inui opened it to check, face colouring. Fuji peeked over his shoulder. "Oh wow, those are good."

Squaring his shoulders, Tezuka looked the quarterback in the eye. "Hiruma-san, I do not appreciate you blackmailing my team."

The rest of the football team had spilled out of the clubhouse now, but froze as a collective at his words. "S-s-scary MAX!" the short monkey-like boy stuttered.

There was another blonde with a cross-shaped scar behind them. "He must have a death wish."

Bringing up the rear was possibly the roundest person Tezuka had ever seen. Even Kei Tanishi of Higa hadn't come close. "Hiruma! Please don't cause any trouble!"

"I'm not going to do anything!" The blonde quarterback assured them, though Tezuka was quite sure that was sarcasm in his voice. "I just wanted to give Seigaku's Tennis Champions the chance to consider all the benefits of attending Deimon! American Football is a very versatile sport, you know! It could even improve their tennis!"

Kaidoh was suddenly looking attentive, but fortunately before he could ask any questions their youngest member stepped in.

"This is stupid. Let's go back to fucking practice already," Echizen remarked in a bored deadpan.

"Echizen!" Tezuka barked. Hiruma grinned maniacally.

It was a disaster and a complete waste of their afternoon. Momoshiro was on the verge of a fist-fight with three delinquents, Kawamura was apparently having a very pleasant conversation with a stout little freshman who spoke only in grunts, Fuji was chatting with some scheming-looking girl in rollerskates, Eiji and a hyper blonde seemed to be engaged in some contest as to who was the most flexible and now Echizen was picking up bad language from the demon quarterback.

They'd been completely fooled. Didn't their Coach double-check these things? First she sent them off a dangerous cruise run by a con-man and now _this_? If Tezuka were just a little more paranoid, he'd think she was trying to make them quit the sport. Or get them killed.

"Everyone, we're leaving!" Tezuka called out.

"So soon?"

"Hiruma-san, maybe we should let them go…" the short freshman who'd been apologising to them earlier tugged on the back of Hiruma's red football jersey.

The quarterback rolled his eyes, and waved his hand dismissively. "Fine then. We'll have better luck with the next lot. Get lost!"

A chance. Tezuka was all too willing to escape. Under his stern glance, the team started shuffling back towards the school gates, with general grumbling over the lack of promised matches. Tezuka was just relieved to be leaving. He had the feeling that if they stayed any longer the risk of severe injury might skyrocket.

"Oi, Tezuka!" The blonde waved him back over.

Really, he wanted nothing more than to get away from this very weird and quite probably dangerous person as quickly as possible, but manners dictated he should respond. "Yes?"

"Are you sure you won't consider it?" He held out an array of photos, spread like cards within his grasp.

Tezuka took a deep breath. Hiruma was just messing with him, the same way he'd messed with Inui. But there was nothing the high schooler _could_ blackmail him with. "I'm quite sure Hir-"

Wait… was that _Echizen_ in that photo? His arms were arched above his head, fabric bunched up around his armpits revealing a smooth expanse of skin. Putting on his shirt? The next one… curled up asleep? And then the next one… _in the bath?_

"Who-" he started, then thought better of it. He swallowed. "That sort of thing is-"

"You never stare in the change rooms?" Hiruma snickered.

Tezuka was rendered temporarily speechless and unable to curb the heat rising to his cheeks. He held out his hand, and Hiruma slapped the photos into them with a leer.

"Keep an open mind!" He cackled after that, then turned back to his own team. "Stop standing around and staring, you worthless slackers! Thirty laps around the field, right now! YA-HA!"

Tezuka hurried away, stuffing the photos hurriedly inside his jacket. He didn't want to contemplate the origin of what sounded an awful lot like automatic gunfire in the background.

Echizen was waiting at the gate. "Buchou, the others went ahead to the train station. Inui-senpai said it might be dangerous to stay or something." He gave him a curious look. "Are you okay, Buchou? You look sort of flushed."

"It's nothing," he said hurriedly, hand hovering self-consciously over the photos concealed within his jacket. They felt they were printed on lead instead of paper. "Let's get back to Seigaku."

All that talk of fucking must have been getting to him.


End file.
